The pen has effectively learned to extract the breathings of my heart...

I guess you could say the pen and I have gotten to know each other.

We were first introduced almost 17 years ago when my tiny, untrained fingers attempted to scratch out the seven letters of my name. From there I scribbled out the childhood adventures I lived, in college-ruled notebooks and fairy-covered diaries. We became better acquainted throughout my school years when I entered a writing contest in kindegarten. The rewards and recognition for my work was exciting, so I continued to compete with the pen as my weapon, clear into my high school years.



Soon my curiosity stumbled across an offered journalism class at Ogden High, which would later launch me into my current pursuit of a communication degree. The experience I gained from working as an editor of "The Perspective," (OHS' student newspaper)prepared me for a scholarship at Dixie State College as news editor of "The Dixie Sun." With my pen poised and ready, I survived two years of interviewing, revising, writing and reviewing. I quickly found a passion for writing food reviews, and I worked religiously as a weekly columnist for the Sun.



Now, with two years of higher education behind me and two years left to complete, I reflect on the time the pen and I have spent together over the years. My shelves are filled with numerous stories, each of them self-written. My laptop is crammed with saved documents, and a stack of newspapers, each issue including my work, clutters the DSC newsroom. For me writing is not just a hobby, but rather a lifestyle. It has brought peace, happiness and purpose to my life. It has given me an identity- a reason. To me the printed word will always defeat spoken expression.



This summer, during the transition of my sophomore and junior years in college, I will compile personal memories for a ward writing class that my mom and I attend together. I will probably pick up a journal and attempt to catch up on the years I have failed to record. But overall, this summer I will try my hand at blogging. It's strange and unfamiliar to feel the absence of deadlines and pressure, and instead have a few months to write at my convenience on whatever topic blows my way.



For some time the pen and I will be seperated as I type away my summer. But we'll always reunite, just like old times.